The Unsung Heroines of the ProLife Movement

Most of you know that our youngest child has Down Syndrome. We found out the day after he was born, when the pediatrician noticed several markers for T21. That day the nurses tried to draw blood so they could run a test to confirm the diagnosis. But the particular vein they needed to draw blood from was too tiny, and after seeing my son’s wrist full of needle holes, I asked them not to try again until he was older and his veins were bigger. My husband and I didn’t need immediate test results — T21 or not, he was our son and we loved him dearly.

Unbeknownst to my husband and I, the nurses drew blood for the test a week later. I didn’t know this until they told me that the test came back positive. I could have been upset that they drew blood without our permission, but I wasn’t. I could have been upset that the test came back positive, but I wasn’t. I was, however, tired and stressed because Junior wasn’t gaining weight, I wasn’t producing enough milk, and progress with his oxygen levels was painstakingly slow.

Later that afternoon, Junior’s nurse noticed that I was visibly upset. She thought it was because the test results had come back positive. “I’m sorry about the test results,” she said, sympathetically. Then she said something that shocked me: “Do you want to put him up for adoption?”

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Voices for the Voiceless: Signs from the 2020 March for Life

I wish you all could have been there. The March for Life gets so little media coverage, but it is perhaps one of the most powerful movements of our time in the United States. The youth rally at the Capital One Arena was crammed with 20,000 students. But that was only a small fraction of the hundreds of thousands of people who travelled from all over the country to march in the defense of human life. From the top of Constitution Ave., the March looked like a veritable sea of humanity chanting, singing, praying.

I wish you all could have been there. With the President showing up and giving a speech, it was historic and momentous. But it’s always seeing the hoards of enthusiastic youth that gives me hope. And the signs — they were a voice for the voiceless. Some were funny, others profound, still others courageous. (We carried one, too… can you find it?) Here are some of the awesome signs people were carrying:

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